


Peter Parker's Past

by RowanSage



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angry Bucky Barnes, Angry Tony Stark, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Avengers Family, Child Abuse, Flashbacks, Hurt Peter Parker, PTSD, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Protective Avengers, Protective Tony Stark, Sexual Abuse, They're all pretty pissed off at skip, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:47:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23121232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowanSage/pseuds/RowanSage
Summary: “Stop it, please!  I don’t want to play this game anymore!” The wording of it made his blood run cold. The voice sounded young.  He peeked through an open window, and what he saw made him see red.OR Peter helps a young girl out of a horrible situation, one that reminds him too much of his past.  Meanwhile, the other Avengers learn something about Peter that they didn't know before.
Comments: 17
Kudos: 592





	1. Save the Fallen

**Author's Note:**

> Just a warning, in case the tags weren't clear enough, this story contains topics that are VERY TRIGGERING for some people, so please exercise precaution when reading this. If child abuse, specifically CSA, is a sensitive thing for you, please don't read this work.

Peter was swinging by a window when he heard it. A cry, small and scared, and a thump that resounded through the night. Peter swung down and landed, pressing himself against the building where he’d heard the sound.

His Spidey senses tingled, but he knew it wasn’t for him. Something wasn’t right.

“Karen,” Peter breathed. “Activate the ‘Catch ‘Em in the Act’ Protocol.” The little record light blinked to life on his HUD. This recording, he knew, would broadcast automatically to the Avenger’s Compound, solidifying the evidence. 

He pressed his ear to the side of the building.

“Stop it, please! I don’t want to play this game anymore!” The wording of it made his blood run cold. They sounded _ so young. _ He peeked through an open window, and what he saw made him see red.

A little girl, no older than five or six, was laying on the ground, an older man on top of her. Tears streamed down her face, and as Peter watched, the older man smiled maliciously.

“C’mon darling,” He said in a sickly sweet voice. “I’ll make you feel good.” 

Peter had seen enough.

He burst through the window, causing the man to shout and stumble back in surprise.

“GET THE FUCK OFF OF HER!” The words were out of Peter’s mouth before he could censor them. The little girl scrambled to her feet, hiccuping, and backed away. Peter stepped in between them, fingers on the trigger of his webshooters.

“What-what the hell do think you’re doing, invading my home like this?” The man blustered. “I’ll have you know, this is my house, and I can do what I-” 

“Shut. Up.” Peter spat the words like poison. He fired a sleeper web, which attached itself to the man’s face. He struggled for a moment, then keeled over, the chloroform infusion knocking him out cold. 

Peter knelt down in front of the little girl, who was shaking violently.

“Hey,” He said gently. “You’re alright now. He won’t hurt you anymore.” The little girl burst into tears, flinching away from him when he tried to reach out.

“I don’t wanna play more games!” She cried. Peter felt like throwing up. He closed his eyes briefly, composing himself.

“No more games,” Peter said. “No more. What’s your name?”

“E-Emily.”

“Has he done this before, Emily?”

“Uh huh,” The girl said tremulously. “We play games when Mommy isn’t home. He shows me things. It makes me feel icky.”

“It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.” 

“But I agreed to it!” She exclaimed. Peter put a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m gonna tell you a story, something I haven’t told anyone before.” Emily nodded, some of the fear replaced by curiosity. 

“There was a little boy a while ago, who had a loving aunt and uncle, but both of them had to work. They hired a babysitter to watch him while they were away. The babysitter loved to play with him, but he soon started doing things that the boy didn’t like. He showed him pictures, weird ones and gross ones with people doing gross things. Soon, the babysitter started doing those things to the boy, every single time he came over.” Peter took a shuddering breath, remembering against his will, the lighthearted voice and the soft, invasive touches.

“The boy was ashamed. He felt dirty and rotten, like something was wrong inside of him. He didn’t want to tell his aunt and uncle what was happening, because he was afraid of what they’d say. Eventually though, one of his teachers started asking questions about the marks on him. So, finally, the boy told someone.”

“What happened then?” The little girl asked.

“They were angry, but not at the boy. They fired the babysitter and made it so he could never play games like that with any boy ever again. And the boy was okay. It was hard to learn how not to be afraid anymore, but he did with a lot of help.” The little girl smiled, and Peter smiled back. “You wanna know how I know this?”

“How?”

“That little boy was me.” Her eyes widened comically.

“Really?” She asked. “But you’re Spider-man!”

“I am,” He said. “And it wasn’t my fault, just like it isn’t yours. They were the older ones, they should have known better than to play those kinds of games with us. They know they’re not allowed.”

“It’s against the rules?”

“It’s against the law,” Peter corrected, and the girls eyes widened further.

“Oh.” Emily said, and glanced at the man. “Does that mean Daddy will go to prison? I don’t want him to go to prison!”

“He needs to learn that what he did was wrong,” Peter explained. “Think of it like time-out for grown-ups. That way he can’t play with you anymore either.”

“Ok.” There was a knock at the door, and Emily flinched back.

“There they are!” Peter kept his voice light and cheerful. “The police are here now; they’ll help you!”

“They will?”

“They helped me. Are you okay if I leave you with them?” She hesitated, then nodded. Peter smiled and reached out to her, silently asking permission for a hug. Emily reciprocated.

“Everything will be okay,” Peter murmured comfortingly. “I recorded everything he did; he’ll be going away for a long time now.”

“Ok,” Emily said tearfully, and pulled away to go open the door.

Miles away, at the Avengers compound, Steve turned off the TV, hands shaking violently.


	2. They Saw the Whole Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers are going to start a movie night, when FRIDAY tells them that the protocol activated. Worried and curious, they decide to watch that instead, and learn more than they bargained for about their Spider.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is essentially the same scene, from the Avenger's perspective. I'm a sucker for guilty/protective Avengers, so this was really fun for me to write! Obviously, the same warnings apply.

“Movie time!” Clint cried, throwing himself on the couch. He stretched out dramatically, laying his head on Natasha’s lap, who gave him a disgusted look. Bucky chuckled, leaning back in his armchair.

“Please tell me we’re not watching Mad Max again,” Steve sighed. “I can’t take another second of Bruce complaining about the physics.” 

“It doesn’t make  _ sense _ , though!” Bruce said, gesturing wildly. “The dynamics  _ alone- _ ”

“It’s an action movie,” Tony groaned. “It doesn’t have to make sense!”

“I can’t here what you all are saying,” Clint sing-songed, turning the volume on his hearing aids down. He chuckled when Tony flipped him off. “Okay, well I caught  _ that _ .”

“Catch ‘Em in the Act Protocol activated,” FRIDAY’s cool voice interrupted their squabbling. Tony frowned.

“FRIDAY? What did you say?” 

“Catch ‘Em in the Act Protocol activated,” FRIDAY restated. Steve sat up, looking worried. Catching on to the change of tone, Clint turned his hearing aids back up.

“Do you think somethings wrong?” Steve asked Tony. “I don’t think he’s used that particular feature before.”

“No, he hasn’t,” Tony murmured, then louder. “FRIDAY, project the footage onto the big screen please.” 

“Right away, sir.” The TV screen showed the image, of an empty alleyway. The audio was rather tinny, but didn’t seem to show anything interesting.

“Huh,” Nat said. “I guess he must’ve-”

“Stop it, please! I don’t want to play this game anymore!” The voice of a young girl filtered through, causing everyone in the room to freeze. Clint’s eyes narrowed.

Then the view shifted as Spidey looked through a window. Bucky let out a cry of shock, and Steve’s face paled. There was an older man, crouched over a little girl, grinning predatorially.

“That bastard,” Clint snarled, fists gripping the couch.

Bruce swore. 

Peter crashed through the window.

“GET THE FUCK OFF OF HER!” Peter’s voice was loud enough that the audio buzzed. Tony flinched; he’d never heard Pete that angry before. Bucky sighed in relief as Peter quickly knocked the guy out.

“Holy shit,” He said. “Well, now we know why the protocol was activated.  _ Jesus _ .” Bruce looked green around the edges, and Nat sat unusually still and silent, face as cold as stone.

Tony chuckled nervously.

“So, um do you guys want . . .” He trailed off as Peter’s voice came again through the speakers.

“I’m gonna tell you a story, one that I haven’t told anyone before.” Thor’s head tilted in confusion, but Natasha looked wary, almost nervous. Her hands clenched in her lap.  


“There was a little boy a while ago, who had a loving aunt and uncle, but both of them had to work. They hired a babysitter to watch him while they were away. The babysitter loved to play with him, but he soon started doing things that the boy didn’t like. He showed him pictures, weird ones and gross ones with people doing gross things. Soon, the babysitter started doing those things to the boy, every single time he came over.”

Nat stiffened, eyes going wide.

“Нет _. Нет_ маленький паук, а не ты.” Her voice was soft, barely audible. Clint let out a cry and pressed his hand against his mouth.

“What-” Tony’s voice was hoarse. For some reason, he felt slightly sick. “What is it?” Clint shook his head silently. Unaware of their eye’s upon him, Peter continued.

“The boy was ashamed. He felt dirty and rotten, like something was wrong inside of him. He didn’t want to tell his aunt and uncle what was happening, because he was afraid of what they’d say. Eventually though, one of his teachers started asking questions about the marks on him. So, finally, the boy told someone.”

No _.  _

_ No. _

_ Not him. Please not him. _

“What happened then?” 

Bruce met Tony’s gaze from across the room. His eyes were green.

“They were angry, but not at the boy. They fired the babysitter and made it so he could never play games like that with any boy ever again. And the boy was okay. It was hard to learn how not to be afraid anymore, but he did with a lot of help.” The little girl smiled. “You wanna know how I know this?”

There was a creak as Steve’s finger left dents in the arms of his chair.

“How?”

“That little boy was me.”

A low cry filled the room, and Tony realized after a moment that the sound was coming from him. He lurched forward, ending up on his knees on the carpeted floor.

_ That little boy was me. _

Bruce staggered from the room.

Tony couldn’t- he couldn’t breathe-

_ That little boy was me. _

“Breathe, Tony.” Steve’s hand against his back. “It’ll be okay.”

“No, not him,” Tony gasped. “Pete. Oh God,  _ Pete. _ ” He curled into himself more, throat closing up.

Clint yelled, and a glass smashed against the wall. Thunder rumbled outside.

The video shut off. Steve set down the remote with trembling fingers.

A quiet sob drifted from the corner of the couch, and Tony looked up to meet Natasha’s gaze, her eyes as tear-filled as his.

“He never said anything,” Tony said. “He-he never said  _ anything _ .”

“He wouldn’t have,” Clint’s eye were vacant. “ _ God _ , I can’t- he probably wanted to spare us the pain.”

Pain. He would’ve felt so alone, so scared and helpless, fighting against a person who, who-

Tony staggered upright and raced to the sink. He vomited.

“Oh, Tony,” Steve sighed, and went to help him. 

Bucky still didn’t move.

“Bucky?” Clint said. “You okay pal?” Bucky flinched and shook his head.

“He’s  _ Peter _ ,” He choked. “He’s supposed to be  _ safe _ .”

Thor let Mjolnir fall, and didn’t pick it up again.

"We need to talk to him," Natasha's voice was much steadier than her hands. "We need to talk to him when he gets back." She looked up, and her gaze was made of fire.

" _No_ _one_ touches our Spider."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the abrupt ending; I wasn't sure where to conclude the chapter. Next chapter: Avengers confront Peter about his past.
> 
> Нет. Нет маленький паук, а не ты: No. No, little spider, not you.


	3. The Peter Protection Squad (a.k.a the Avengers)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for taking so long to post the last chapter; with everything that's been going on, I've had other things taking priority over fanfiction-writing. Also, for those of you reading my other fic "Two Changes of Good and Bad", the next chapter for that should be done soon! Anyway, hope you enjoy!
> 
> MAJOR TRIGGER WARNINGS: Past Rape/Noncon, CSA, Flashbacks, PTSD. PROCEED WITH CAUTION PLEASE, FOR YOUR OWN SAKE.

Peter entered the compound, yawning. He felt utterly drained from the encounter, mind racing unnaturally.  _ Man, I need to sleep _ .

He frowned. Considering almost every Avenger was supposed to be here, it was unusually quiet.

“Hey, FRIDAY, where is everyone?”

“All Avengers currently present are gathered in the living room, except for Bruce Banner.” 

Peter smile.  _ Ah, yes, movie night!  _ He hoped they weren’t watching Mad Max again; Bruce always got frustrated at that film.

He yawned again, and stepped into the living room, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

“Man, you will not believe what just went down, I . . .” Peter trailed off. Every single Avenger was staring at him, stony faced. Clint looked shaken, Thor lost and strange. Natasha’s eyes were unusually bright and Tony . . .

. . . Tony looked utterly broken.

“Are-are you guys okay?” Peter’s voice rose in pitch. “What happened? Has something gone wrong? Do I need to suit up?”

“FRIDAY,” Tony whispered. “Cancel the Catch ‘Em in the Act Protocol.”

The little light on Peter’s HUD blinked out.

Peter forgot how to breathe.

“Oh.” He chuckled nervously. “Um . . . where’s Bruce?”

“In the kitchen,” Natasha said. “He had to go calm down.”

Oh.

_ Oh _ .

Shit.

“You-you guys saw all that, huh?” Peter gulped in a breath and smiled humorlessly, looking down at his shoes. “Yeah, that was - that was rough-”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Tony asked, voice breaking on the last word. “Tell  _ me _ ? Did you even go to therapy? Does-does your aunt know?”

Peter exhaled.  _ So this is a conversation that’s now happening. _

“Yes, I went to therapy for several years.” He was proud of how steady his voice was. “May knew but I never said how bad it was; I only told my therapist. Besides-” Peter smiled, but it felt more like a grimace. “I’m fine! This was years ago, I’ve basically gotten over it by now.”

“This isn’t the sort of thing you just ‘get over’, Pete,” Tony grated. “I mean Jesus, you were-”

“I know!” Peter cut in. His breath grew short. “I  _ know _ . I was  _ there _ .”

“How old were you?” Bucky asked distantly.

“Um, eleven I think? Might be wrong.”

“Eleven.” Bucky repeated flatly. “You were eleven.” He got up out of his chair and left, kitchen door swinging in his wake. Steve sighed shakily, but didn’t follow him. The rest of the Avengers looked despondant, but Tony-

Tony looked fucking  _ furious _ .

“Tell me their name.” His voice was clipped. “Tell me their name and I  _ swear _ I will - we will -”

“See, this is why I didn’t tell you!” Peter burst out. “I knew you’d overrreact!”

“Over-  _ overreact _ ?” Tony’s voice rose.

“Tony-” Natasha began, but Tony cut her off.

“You - fucking - _overrreact_ , I’ll show you overreact, I made a fucking _mess_ in the sink-” His whole body shook and he stumbled at Peter, eye wild- “Here, let me fucking _show_ _you-_ ” He grabbed Peter’s wrist.

Peter yelled in pain.

Tony let go.

“What the hell is happening in here?” Bruce entered, looking very worried. His gaze flickered between Tony and Peter, and his brow furrowed. “Tony, did you . . .?”

“I-I didn’t mean . . .” Tony floundered, gaze fixated on Peter’s wrist. “ _ Jesus _ , kid, I-”

“It wasn’t you,” Peter said hastily through gritted teeth. “I twisted my wrist earlier, that’s all. You didn’t hurt me, Tony.” But Tony’s eyes were already shuttered. He turned away and sat down on the couch next to Clint, face in his hands.

Natasha shut her eyes.

“What Tony means to say,” She said, “Is that we were all just worried for you. We didn’t know about any of this, which, granted, is your decision to make.” She fixed Tony with a stern look, even though the billionaire couldn’t see it. “But, if you wouldn’t mind explaining a bit, it would put all of our minds at ease.”

“I for one, would  _ love _ to know who exactly did this to you.” Steve’s voice was carefully controlled, but Peter could hear the rage behind it. Peter bit his lip.

“His name was Skip Wescott.” The name sat heavy on his tongue like poison. “And he’s in prison for life for what he did.”

“He is.” Natasha exhaled. “Good. That’s all we really wanted to know. That, and if there’s any triggers we should avoid.”

“It’s not like I have PTSD or something!” Peter defended. “I just . . .”  _ Get nightmares. Hate certain songs and nicknames. Avoid intimate relationships. _

“I know,” Natasha replied patiently. “But it’s good to know anyway what might make you uncomfortable, even if it’s not necessarily a PTSD thing.”

“I’m fine, seriously!” Peter said defensively. “I’ve dealt with this for a long time on my own.” Tony let out a soft, distressed sound.

“You know,” Steve said carefully. “Having PTSD isn’t something to be ashamed of. I’m pretty sure most people in the room have some form of it.”

“Really?” Peter’s brow knitted. He couldn’t imagine any of the others tangled in nightmares in the way he often had.

“Yup,” Tony said, voice muffled. “Can’t stand water. Afghanistan ruined pool parties, I tell you.”

“I’m sure they did, Einstein,” Clint snorted. Peter stiffened. His breathing quickened, eyes glazed over. Natasha narrowed her eyes.

“. . . Peter?” She asked cautiously. “Are you okay?” Peter didn’t reply, and the other’s slowly realized that something was wrong.

“Peter?” Tony’s voice was more urgent. “What’s wrong? Hey, answer me, bud.”

“No,” Peter whispered. “Please-”

_ “Just relax, Einstein -”  _

_ “You do know how to take it like a champ!” _

_ “Einstein, what did I say about making me mad?” _

  
  


-eter! Christ, he’s having a panic attack-”

_ “Just relax, it’ll be over soon.” _

A hand touched his back.

“No!” Peter cried. “Don’t touch me! Please, I don’t want it, I don’t-” He scrambled backwards away from the touch, away from the voices calling him back-

His back hit the wall.

_ “Just take it, already, will you Einstein?” _

_ Little Peter whimpered, tears leaking out despite his eyes being tightly shut. A hand caressed over his cheek, and Skip leaned closer, hand drifting downward- _

“Peter?” This voice was new, calmer. “I know you can hear me. You don’t have to do anything, just listen to my voice, alright? You’re safe. You’re at the Avenger’s compound, in the living room. We were going to have a movie night.”

“Movie?” Peter asked. His voice felt distant, as if spoken by someone else.

_ -isten to me, Einst- _

“Yup,” The voice replied, and he realized belatedly that it belonged to Clint. “Name two things you can hear right now.”

“. . . C-crying,” Peter forced out. “Traffic . . . outside.” And yes, now that he concentrated, he could actually hear those things. He also realized that he was sitting on the floor.

“ . . . Floor’s dusty,” He muttered. “Should clean it.” Clint snorted.

“We’ve got DUM-E for that,” He said. “Why don’t you open your eyes, kid? I know it’s scary, but you’ll feel better.” Peter grimaced, but slowly cracked his eyes open. His surroundings were blurry from tears, but he saw that the rest of the Avengers had moved to the other side of the room, except for Tony, who was seated beside him. Clint was crouched in front of him and smiled when their eyes met.

“See?” He said. “You’re fine, your safe. Everything’s gonna be alright.” Peter took a deep breath . . . 

. . . and burst into tears.

“Oh, kid,” Tony sighed. “Can I hug you?” Silently, Peter nodded, and was instantly engulfed. He focused on the smell and the feel of Tony’s jacket, and felt both vunerable and safe.

“I’m sorry,” Tony murmured. “I’m so sorry, Pete, we shouldn’t have confronted you like that. That was very mean of us.” Peter buried his face in Tony’s chest, but didn’t answer. They stayed like that for a while, and slowly his sobs turned into hiccups, and he felt like speaking again.

“I’m sorry,” Peter said softly. “I don’t know why I reacted like that. Normally, stuff like that - nicknames and stuff - don’t trigger me anymore. They just make me uncomfortable.”

“With everything that’s happened, us . . . interrogating you, what you dealt with earlier, I’m not surprised,” Steve put in solemnly. Peter looked up at him where he stood by the TV; Steve was gazing at him softly. “Sometimes stuff like that can trigger us without us realizing, and something else, something smaller, can set us off.”

“Doesn’t make you weak,” Tony said, tightening his arms around Peter. “Doesn’t mean you’ve gone backwards. It just happens sometimes; it’s not your fault.”

“Oh,” Peter sniffled. “That- that makes sense. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Tony chuckled, holding him tighter. “You’re okay. We’re okay. I’m glad you trusted us enough to tell us about it.” Peter nodded.

“. . . can we watch Star Wars now?” He asked petulantly. The others laughed, and Tony smiled, letting go.

“Sure kid. We can do that.”

And as Peter settled on the couch, head on Tony’s lap, he knew that, somehow, he’d be okay.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [please don't worry, i'll be fine on my own (i'll turn the lights off when i go)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23727070) by [contextclues](https://archiveofourown.org/users/contextclues/pseuds/contextclues)




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